


Eyja

by Euleogy



Series: Eule's Skyrim OCs [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Background story, Gen, Multi, Other, PTSD, Rape, Scarring, Trauma, bandits, housewifery?, latin names are annoying lemme tell ya, sad things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4992985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euleogy/pseuds/Euleogy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eyja was a cheerful child, blonde ringlets and bright blue eyes. She made her Nord parents proud, and she was looked on as a pretty child in the imperial-dominated town she grew up in, in Cyrodiil. Happiness doesn't always last, however, and Eyja's small world was turned upside down several times over the course of her life. It was when she was 19 that she found herself in a carriage, bound for a land she'd never seen, not knowing what was now to happen to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyja

A babe born with blonde ringlets and bright blue eyes would have made any Nord parent proud and Lore and Diana were no exception. They named the girl Eyja, meaning gift of fortune. They felt it more than appropriate for their beloved daughter. It soon became apparent though, just how much of a gift this babe was, as Diana, no matter how hard the couple tried, remained barren for 5 years.

The little babe grew, doted on by her parents. Her parents began to doubt they would ever have another child, and so spoiled their first immensely. In their small town, the girl was practically the daughter of the Jarl, though her father was no more than the keeper of a general shop where he bought and sold whatever goods he could.

 

* * *

 

Eyja was taught to read, and to write. She loved to draw, sing, and even dance, though the later was not with any professional skill. Her father taught her numbers, counting. Addition, subtraction, even simple multiplication and division. She took to it astoundingly well, showing a love for learning, as well as a love for showing off her knowledge.

With her intelligence, talent, and general cheerfulness, the 6 year old girl was also showing signs that she would some day become a very lovely girl, lucky to whoever her future husband might be. Despite several of the older families making offers of marriage for their various sons, Lore and Diana chose to let their daughter grow up without plans for matrimony, feeling that she was too young to think about such things.

 

* * *

  
Shortly after her sixth birthday, Eyja received a little sister; Ingae. The name was meant to represent that the babe was a gift from the gods, for they had thought Diana had become barren. Despite her status as parental pride and joy being usurped by the baby, Eyja was a proud older sister, though this often translated into her trying to be a mother, when her mother was unavailable.

As if the gods had an ironic sense of humor, however, those parental responsibilities would find their way to Eyja. When Eyja was only 8 years old, her father began an affair, and when she was 9, her father left. She would rarely see her father after that.

This change in her life was not only stressful for her mother, but stressful for Eyja. Her mother was forced to work in the tavern, serving men, cleaning rooms, etc. They didn't make as much money as they used to from her father's shop, but they survived. Eyja though, became the primary caregiver to her 3 year old sister, Ingae.

Just as when she was younger, Eyja was still able to pick up skills quickly, her talent for learning and natural eagerness toward new skills taking it's place in her life as she adapted. Instead of helping in the shop, learning numbers and letters, she began more domestic work, learning cleaning, cooking, and caring for a toddler that seemed to do nothing but get into trouble.

Eyja tried to teach her sister letters and numbers, but Ingae was not born with the same desire for knowledge, and would do nothing but argue and fuss until they moved onto games. This pattern continued, though Ingae did eventually absorb what she was taught, she was not quick to read or write, and she despised numbers.

 

* * *

  
When Eyja was 13, and Ingae was 7, Ingae was allowed to more take care of herself, playing outside with the other children. Eyja would do the cleaning and cooking still, and she would still try to keep her sister out of trouble, often telling her to stop playing in the dirt. Her mother still worked long hours, but they were saving small bits of money for a nicer house.

It was one night, as her mother stayed out, that Eyja's gifts betrayed her. The girl was still fairly chipper, though admittedly most people thought she was well into her late teens, both by her appearance as well as the manner she conducted herself. She had put her sister to bed, and was walking to the tavern to tell her mother so when she was jerked down a narrow road, behind a wooden beam.

She recognized the man who raped her. He ran the meat stall. She saw him twice a week, on the days that she made meat for the dinner she and her sister would eat, and the breakfast her mother would eat the next morning. Every day he smiled, handed her the cuts she paid for, and wished her well. She had known this man since he opened his stall when she was 10, and now he was forcing himself onto her.

 

* * *

  
It didn't stop there, though. He was a younger man. Only 19 years of age. He didn't even stink of liquor or skooma, he was in his right mind. After he raped her, he'd stroked her cheek, and told her she'd been good. Good enough to keep, he'd said. He meant those words. He asked her mother for the privilege of marrying her daughter within a week of the incident.

Diana was at first hesitant, especially when she saw her daughter's lack of eagerness. She took counsel from another woman, older by several years, who also worked in the tavern. She was assured that Eyja would always be nervous for marriage. The boy was young, having no grays, and a good form. He ran the meat stall, so there would always be food for Eyja and her children. It was a good match.

Though engaged, Diana said that the wedding would wait until Eyja was 15. In the years leading up her to marriage, however, the man, Acacius, did not play the respectable intended. In those two years, he continued to terrorize Eyja. He did more than take his pleasure with her. He trained her as one would train a dog. She would come when he called. She would tell him she loved him. She would tell her mother she was happy. Anything he commanded of her, by a year, she would do. She even begged her mother to allow them to marry sooner. Above all the emotions running through her head, the largest one, was fear.

 

* * *

  
They were married 2 weeks after Eyja's 15thbirthday. After the marriage, Eyja was not seen for a week. The rare times Acacius was seen, he said they were just taking advantage of their time as newlyweds. As no one was aware of their earlier times sharing his bed, they assumed that the newlywed couple was simply exploring all there was to now being married.

The truth was that Eyja was tied to the bed, not allowed to move. Even if she was capable, she would not have left the house, for shame of the marks that covered her fair Nord complexion. Before their marriage, Acacius had always been careful when he took her. The only marks that had marred her form were ones that were very easily hid not just from the populace, but from those that might seen under her dress, such as her mother and sister. Now that she lived with him, there was no fear of any marks that could be easily covered with her clothes, and Acacius did so love to leave his marks.

 

* * *

  
When she was finally allowed out of the house, she was told not to tell a soul of her first week. She was to tell a lie about the bruises, should anyone ask. If her mother, or a nosy neighbor was to ask about her wedding night, she was to blush and say that she wasn't sure if she could have enjoyed it more. Acacius needn't have feared, and truly he didn't. He was, by this point, more than used to his submissive pet obeying his every command. Eyja was more than used to be far too ashamed to dare tell a soul of the truth.

 

* * *

  
For two years this pattern continued. Rumors spread about the abuse, but as her husband, it was Acacius's right to treat his wife how he saw fit. If her mother felt regret about the match, she said nothing, but she did deliver various potions to her daughter when she knew Acacius was working his stall.

  
Eyja tried to visit her sister,tried to continue a good relationship, but Ingae didn't understand why her sister had left her as she had. She grew resentful of Eyja's seeming devotion to her husband, and soon began avoiding her entirely.

 

* * *

  
Eyja was 19 when Acacius began packing things for a trip. The usual blankets and food, as well as a pouch of substantial coin that Eyja knew better than to ask about. When he told her to get dressed in clothes more suitable for travel, she began to change, but softly asked if she could know where they were going. This was a mistake. Whereas sometimes Acacius was almost kind to her, treating her like a dear horse or a favorite dog, this was not one of those times. He slapped her hard enough to send her to the floor, his rings cutting into the soft flesh of her cheek.

Acacius had never struck her in such a manner. He was always very careful to avoid marking her face. That's not to say she had never been slapped, that is rather to say he had removed his rings, and done it to correct her, never to bruise her cheek.

In her shock, she didn't move from the floor. In his disgust, he gave her a firm kick to the ribs, then spit on the floor by her, sat at the table, and told her that they were going to a larger city to see a proper healer, as she hadn't given him children. He told her how broken and useless she was. He told her how she was costing him money for nothing more than the fact that she couldn't seem to do the only thing women were good for.

He sat there staring at her as she fought back tears, apologized, and slowly picked herself up to change into travel clothes.

 

* * *

  
She did not speak to him without cause for the entire trip, too self-loathing to do much of anything. When he spoke to her, she responded. She saw to his needs as she had been well-trained to. Feeding him meals from the packed food, setting out his bedroll and snapping the dirt out of it both in the night as well as the morning.

Acacius was pleased. He would have claimed he loved his wife, and perhaps he did. She was certainly the most well-behaved wife he could have hoped for, and her pale Nord appearance was appealing to most in Cyrodiil. He was proud to show off such a timid and pretty wife. As they entered the larger Imperial city, he even bought her a sweetroll, which she silently ate, picking it into small bites.

 

* * *

  
The healer who saw the couple gave Eyja a very thorough examination before telling the couple the news. The scar tissue within Eyja's canals and uterus pointed to a horrible accident. The woman stated that when this accident occurred, the healer should have mentioned then that it would keep Eyja from pregnancy. She was clear that if Eyja was to get pregnant, which was unlikely, the result would be either a miscarriage, or a fatal childbirth, either to the babe, or to Eyja. Before they left the healer offered several options to try to prevent a dangerous pregnancy, such as teas, washed sheep's intestines, and a form of douche, but Acacius declined them all.

That night Acacius punished Eyja so fiercely that he then had to pay a carriage to take them home, as she couldn't even ride a horse, let alone walk. He made sure to tell her how this was all her fault, though quietly enough that in the morning, the tavern keep was none the wiser, though she did furrow her brow at Eyja's puffy, tear-stained face, as well as the way she hobbled when she walked. Acacius explained it away, saying they had come for a midwife, but that the babe had been lost. This explained her pained stature, as well as her melancholy temperament. Eyja said nothing to counter this information, she simply stared into space too deep in her own depression to care anymore.

The only respite from her misery was the knowledge that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to force his children on her. She would never carry his babies. She would never have that constant memory just by looking at an innocent child. It seemed a good change of pace that the cause of this hidden gift was his own abuses.

 

* * *

 

It was as they were on their way home to the small village she'd grown up in that their plans changed. They were 2 days into their journey, the carriage rocking softly. It was mid-morning, the sun just starting to warm the dew from the land.

Eyja had been looking out at the trees as they passed them by, lost in her own mind. Acacius and the driver were cheerfully talking about this that or the other. The horses were trudging along, almost with the steady efficiency of the horses of Skyrim, from what Eyja had always heard about them from her parents.

Then the steadfast horse reared up, stopping the carriage so suddenly that Eyja fell to the side, falling flat against the wooden bed. In the blink of an eye, there were two arrows embedded into the chest of their formerly cheery driver. Her husband stood, drawing a steel dagger. The metal glowed faintly golden, and Eyja had to wonder when she'd bought it, as she hadn't remembered him leaving her while they were in he city. Had he had the blade with them the entire time?

Acacius turned slowly, his eyes searching the surrounding wood for whoever were their attackers. It was during this time that the command came to drop his weapon. He glanced back to the driver, knowing that he would be dead before the dagger was any good anyway. With disgust, the dagger was throw forward, to the ground.

3 men, two with bows drawn, walked from the trees, their hide and fur armor allowing them to move freely while still protected. The one without a bow had a large mace instead, dried blood flaked around it's spikes, showing that it was well-used. He reached out, dragging Acacius from the carriage, over the railing. Eyja, in her fear, remained pressed against the bed.

It didn't make much difference how she hid, though. They tied her husband's hands, keeping one bow trained on his while the other two walked around to the back of the carriage. They were surprised to find a woman, but they dragged Eyja off all the same, tying her hands and standing her near her husband. If they noticed her pained wincing, they said nothing.

The men took all the goods that were being transported. Not to say there was much, aside from the money left over from the healer. They did leave some food behind, but anything of any real value was taken. Jewelry, coin, the dagger, everything. They also grabbed Eyja's arm, beginning to drag her away. Acacius moved, even in his bound state, to try to stop them, only receiving an arrow in the chest for his trouble. Eyja, however, was beyond fighting. The outlaws would do as they wished, she could not overpower them. She had learned from her husband that fighting would only make matters worse. She barely glanced at her dying husband, as blood dripped from his lips, her name formed over them. She shed no tears, but she did feel the pang of loss in her heart, surprising herself at her new found sorrow over his death.

 

* * *

  
Though Eyja was sure she was to be raped, the group first healed her. They fed her, watered her, and for two days, she managed to sit atop a horse to a place she knew nothing about. They did not give her information, and she was accustomed to not asking. She was too afraid that they would punish her as her husband had when she last dared as him a question.

When they arrived at a small cave, furs were laid out for beds, a fire was built, and dinner began being made. Still, Eyja had not been taken against her will. The men were merry, chatting about their success, sharing mead and bread. One of them had felled a goat, and they had skinned and cut the beast before spitting it over their fire.

She was given the same food they ate, offered the same mead, given her own bed. The first night was calm. The rest, less so.

 

* * *

  
Two months she was kept as a slave to the outlaws. They stayed in the cave for that time. She did the cleaning, and even the cooking. They brought freshly killed game, salt, garlic, vegetables, everything she could need. They continued to use her every night, but seemed intent on not overworking the woman. Within this time, she was not beaten. She was dragged by an arm to places they'd want her, or she was told where to go. She was never left alone, but the men seemed pleased.

She was confused. Was this all they had planned for her? Making her a wife to all of them? That is what they were asking of her. She was doing the same tasks as she had before. It was honestly better. They treated her better. They never punished her. They didn't seem to even care the first say she spoke more than a handful of words.

They were almost kind. She still did not want to share their beds, but they were gentle, and warm. One of the bowmen almost seemed intent to make her enjoy the task. If he was ever displeased with her apathy, he never mentioned it.

She didn't quite know what to make of these men. She had tried apathy with her husband, but he had beaten her even for that. He wanted her to please him, and act pleased herself. These men seemed content to let her exist as herself.

 

* * *

  
After two months, she was secured by her bed shortly after lunch. This was an odd thing, as usually she was allowed to roam during the day, though she was made explicitly aware that she must stay in sight. By her was set some dried meat, and several skins of water. The outlaws were going raiding. They would be back in 4 days. She might get hungry, but they would be back long before she would starve. The meat and water would need to last her that long, but they didn't want to risk her safety by taking her with them.

The day after they left, she began to work free of her bindings.

Two days after they left, she took the now-empty water skins, and searched the cave for anything of use.

On the third morning, she left, quickly. She had thought of staying, but something, deep in her heart, called her away. She had fleeting memories of her life as a child, and even as she had taken care of her sister. She knew what freedom was, though it was a thought that was almost foreign to her.

Over the two months that she had been kept, she had been slowly sharpening herself a stone dagger of sorts. She didn't trust these men, despite their kindness. She was terrified that they were going to turn on her. That she was pleasing them now was a surprise even to herself. She didn't know what to expect because these men were defying those expectations she had come to form of men.

When she started making her weapon, she did it almost as if without thinking. She hadn't been planning escape, or to kill the men in their sleep. She hadn't been planning to kill herself, most certainly. It was almost instinct, her making of her weapon. Now though, she used it to free herself. Without thinking, she left, walking with purpose away from the cave, not caring about direction or destination.

 

* * *

  
She knew she couldn't go home. She would be a widow, poor, and she knew that with her being barren, no man would want her. She didn't know how to survive in the wild, so she knew she would need to find people, and soon, as she hadn't found much in the cave as far as supplies was concerned.

There was a memory, an echo, of the many things her father had been intent to teach her. The sun rises in the east, and sets in the west. West is to the left, and East is to right, when you face North. Skyrim was north-west to Cyrodiil. Skyrim was where her mother was from, and where her father's parents were from. It was morning when she looked up, finding the sun, finding east.

She could go to Skyrim. She was a Nord. Pure Nord. Her parents were both Nords, as were their parents. She could call Skyrim home. At the very least, she would surrounded by Nords. She would never see another Imperial face. Never see another face like Acacius, or the bandits. Never hear the sounds that all their names seemed to follow. Free to start anew.

 

* * *

  
It took her two days to find a road, and then she followed the road, trying to keep as much to the north and west as she could. This plan proved to work, as she did see what appeared to a border crossing. She'd never seen a border crossing, but she figured it would be guarded of some kind. She could see men there, but it was as she drew nearer that she felt a familiar fear.

Instead of being met by Nord men, she was captured by Imperial faces, in Imperial armor, as if she was nothing more than a criminal. She was stripped of her belongings and placed in nothing more than glorified rags. She was dumped unceremoniously into the back of an empty cart, and left there.

 

* * *

  
It wasn't until night fell that she was given companions. Strange men in strange armor, uniforms of some kind, she supposed. Though they were Nords, they were prisoners. She was only even aware that she was no longer alone, as the cart rocked with the force of heavy boots hitting wood. She had started to fall asleep, leaning against the wooden cart. Having been on the move all day, and then left idle in the cart, dozing off had only gotten easier as the sun disappeared.

She had cracked open her eyes to glance over the men, then closed her eyes to go back to sleep. She managed to sleep through the night, the rocking of the cart lulling her to sleep. It was the next morning, very late, before a large bump in the road jarred her awake.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I did post this story already once, but this is the revised and added-to version. I added in more detail and tried to give the story a slower pace, and a more realistic feel. Comments are, as always, much appreciated.
> 
> You'll notice I did add this as a series. My intent is to create several such backgrounds with many possible Dragonborns. Eyja is just one of many. I'll be trying to include as least one for each race. Genders, backgrounds, and personalities will all vary, and hopefully they'll be detailed and dynamic. If you'd like to write your own stories with my characters, you're more than welcome to, but please link to their original story, and shoot me a message so I can read it, too!


End file.
